


MechaQueen Rises

by MechaqueenMistress (PunkRockPearl)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Brainiac Squad, Cowboyisms, Extreme description of injury, F/F, MechaQueen has begun!, Mechanization, Rebirth, Romance, mechaqueen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2018-10-22 02:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10688001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkRockPearl/pseuds/MechaqueenMistress
Summary: A mission at Numbani goes wrong, and now the team is left to pick up the pieces.(It has a happy ending don't worry.)





	1. Act 1: The Fall

[Numbani: T-15 minutes to mission extraction]

 

The skies were certainly not clear today. Even if Talon operatives were not swarming across the city streets Pharah would hesitate to take to the skies thanks to the poor weather. Poor weather being a wind speed over 30mph due to the currently intense fight between Doomfist and Winston occurring on the rooftops; the battle summoning a storm that would soon overtake the city if their duel did not end soon. 

In other words: Pharah was getting impatient.

“Stupid wind, stupid Doomfist,  ghabi  _ Talon _ ! Today  _ was _ going to be a good day for flying, but  _ noooooo _ . I’m now grounded and I’m stuck here doing...  _ doing _ … doing  **nothing** !” Pharah shouted animatedly, waving her arms around in a manner that was normal for the soldier when she was unable to get her feet off the ground.

“Oh calm down!” Mercy shouted at her from behind a nearby vehicle while applying her healing staff’s beam to a Overwatch grunt. “You can stand to be on the ground for 5 minutes while Tracer finds Widowmaker!” A cry of pain came from the grunt she was attending to as she dug into his arm to pull out an embedded bullet.

“And as I’ve told you before Mercy!” Pharah called back as she fired a blind rocket at the opposing Talon forces over the hood of the car she was taking cover behind. “If those fairy wings of yours actually gave you real flight you would understand how I want to be in the air 24/7.” Another blind rocket fired across the bow. This was taking forever. All Pharah wanted to do was to be up in the sky, away from this for just a moment with…

Mercy, her closest friend after McCree, but a close second. Any time spent with the doctor was precious, and surprisingly enough missions spent together let them have plenty of time alone. Depending on what mission they were on of course. It was freedom and joy being together in the sky on a good mission. The laughter of Mercy when they flew was...

“All clear loves, looks like the spider’s not in town today!” Tracer’s chipper voice cut through the comms, sending a round of cheers through the ranks. Out of the corner of Pharah's eye she saw 76 nod before giving the all clear. “Alright team, no sniper over our heads today. That’s one less thing to worry about, but keep the defense strong.” Looking over to her 76 addressed her directly, “Go get em blue bird.”

With 76’s words Pharah felt the shit-eating grin she always got when she went to unload on Talon agents slip onto her face like an old friend. Firing the Raptora’s rocket system she jetted herself behind the enemy combatant’s cover, barely hearing 76’s command to Zayra to get ready for their one-two combo.

It took only a few seconds for the two agents to get into position to demolish the Talon forces.

“Fire at will!” Zayra called out, firing her graviton core into the mass of Talon operatives.

“Justice rains from above!” Pharah responded, overloading the Raptora and blasting heaven’s fury down upon the gathered agents. Pharah never took pleasure in the taking of lives, but to her Talon lives were very close to the bottom of the barrel, leaving her with a mostly clean conscience as bodies were torn limb from limb and almost comically gibbed apart. She was nearly finished with her moment of glory when the world stopped for her.

She barely heard the word through her comms, the word she had learned to fear in every language she knew, and even in ones she did not. A word that, once brought her pride and memories of home. A word that now brought her, like many of her fellow soldiers, images of the worst psychological horrors and deaths she had ever witnessed. A word she knew personally, a title given to those who hunted birds like her.

“Sniper!” called out Tracer’s uncannily late warning.

It happened in a flash and a bang, but unlike Genji’s overdramatic anime, there was no time for anyone to cry out her name, nor any time for a dramatic build up to an explosion to occur. It happened as fast as the snap of two fingers, or as fast as a artery being split by the trembling hand of a doctor. It only took one, impossible bullet to stop her.

The fiery explosion shook the battlefield, tearing the engaged combatant’s attention away from the battlefield for the few moments they could spare. Her body rocketed towards the ground from the force of the explosion in a black and orange cloud of smoke. She had a finite moment of consciousness before she hit the ground. As she fell all she could think of was the pain all around her and her thundering regrets. She still had enough time to feel the wind fly past her face as she fell. Then as if life decided to taunt her with her regrets the voice Pharah loved cut through the air as she passed out before she even hit the ground.

Peace.

____

It took only a moment for Mercy to realize what had occurred. Before anyone else could get a word out, she was crying Pharah’s name and rushing across the battlefield. Panic and anger flashed across the Overwatch crew as they moved with the now battle medic across the battlefield to Pharah’s body. 

Racing forward, not heeding a word from her comm, Angela picked up a pulse rifle off of the ground and unloaded on every Talon agent in sight. In that moment of action she became an angel of justice. Shooting at kneecaps and shoulders with a pinpoint accuracy that stunned everyone to see out of the normally pacifist doctor. Using her Valkyrie suit she launched herself towards her opponents, striking with either bullets or with her knees and fists incapacitating all in her wake.

It took only 2 minutes to get to where Pharah had fallen, but by then it was already too late. Pharah was lying in a pool of blood. Considering she was flanked by the bodies of dead, gibbed soldiers, Mercy could only hope that it was not all Pharah’s. It only took more than a second to realize that the red ooze immediately surrounding Pharah was undoubtedly hers due to the amount leaking out of the scorched battle armor.

Mercy had steeled herself for the worst, and being a doctor she had experience in these things; yet she found herself gagging at the sight of her downed soldier, colleage, friend. The soldiers who rushed in behind her were not so prepared. Some of the more green members ran behind vehicles or found trashcans to hurl their lunches into.

Pharah had landed in a position befitting a painting rather than real life. Arms astray in directions unnatural for a human. A chunk of armor dislodged revealing a heavy gouge in her side. Mercy swore she could see the edge of an organ sticking out from the wound. Scorched flesh across the entirety of her normally immaculate face. Undoubtedly the worst of it all however, was the horrific, smouldering stumps that were once Pharah’s legs. Metal, bone, and flesh all combined to create smoking stumps that ended halfway down Pharah’s thighs, where the overload rockets had been stored. Her legs were nowhere to be seen. More than anywhere from Pharah’s body, she was losing blood from her legs the fastest.

Mercy lept into action, an intensity of determination filling her that she did not know she had on the battlefield. “Someone get me a stretcher and get us some cover! Check for survivors! I need all the nanites you, you and you have now!” She pointed at the nearby agents that looked the least wounded. Having received the nanites, she activated them to standby mode as she directed her staff towards pharah. She took care to try to heal as best she could with her caduceus staff and smaller healing wands, sealing what external wounds she should. Her staff could not regrow arms, as much as she wished it could. “Jack I swear you had better be pulling us out of here right now or I will be putting my fist through your skull!” She yelled into her comm as she was handed a field size medkit from one of her underlings.

His response was short and succinct, slightly muffled from the groans of a Talon agent being roughly cuffed. “Already have a dropship on the way, you can quit your hollering.” After another moment of grunts and the sound of punches coming through the comms 76 continued, “We’ve cleared them out, do what you can Doc.”

Angela could only nod her head her head in response, knowing full well he could not see her, and focusing on the task of saving what she could of Pharah. As she attached the nanite injections to Pharah, she began the process of stemming the flow of blood first. She did what she could to rip off Pharah’s armor and expose her body suit. With every movement she made more blood leaked from Pharah’s abdomen. It would be nearly a minute before she had stopped what bloodflow she could and start looking at other symptoms. 

Just as she could hear the roar of the dropship in the distance she saw the small, terrifying light that had grown to haunt her. A small, fiery wisp of nanites swirled above Pharah’s chest, nanites that signified the coming brain death of a patient. “Nononononono.” Mercy began to panic, hurrying and doing what she could to patch up Pharah before the dropship arrived with her larger kit of medical equipment. She injected more nanites and began to attach another bloodbag to Pharah, She saw the nanite wisp drawing from Pharah’s arms, giving her another indicator. ‘Oh no.’

Time seemed to freeze, all at once the world stopped for Mercy as she realized what she had overlooked. Pharah’s deep black undersuit had covered the damage being done, but through a small tear she saw what the nanites had known. Blood, blood running freely under her skin. The bones and muscle tissue had been so thoroughly destroyed by the explosions and subsequent impact that the blood vessels had completely shattered, causing a case of near fatal internal bleeding. She knew what had to be done, but froze; she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The barbaric procedure that brought many a doctor low before their enraged patients, Amputation. 

It was the only way, she rationalized. It wouldn’t hurt her now, she thought as she saw the little flame grow only dimmer. Pharah would forgive her, right? The flame flickered for a second. Would she be able to forgive herself for failing to save her friend? Her best friend? Could a life without the bright face of Fareeha in Overwatch make this hell worth it? She had questioned Overwatch before, but with the bright smile and heart of gold of Fareeha, it had felt like something worth fighting for.

She knew what had to be done. Her hand reached to her small satchel on her waist, pulling out the plasma buzzsaw she had never truly had to use. Angela knew what had to be done, Mercy knew as well. They did their duty. 

It was fast and furious. The blade tore through the straps holding her arm piece armor like lightning, barely giving Mercy enough time to adjust for the full cutting. Ordering a nearby grunt to hold Pharah’s arm at length she began to amputate. A stream of blood poured onto her armor, making her look like a butcher in a deli in a matter of seconds. The plasma saw burned and scorched flesh and bone alike as it tore through the demolished arm, sealing off the intact blood vessels from the world. The process was repeated for the other arm, blood spilling across her armor as Pharah’s flesh burned.

As she finished and the blood stopped she felt a wave of relief, satisfied for just a moment that she had saved Pharah. Her relief didn’t last long. “Uh, Mercy? Is that supposed to be happening?” A worried voice of a nearby grunt broke through her moment. She had judged too soon once again. Her eyes returned to Fareeha’s chest just as the final wisps of the flame died. No, no not after all that, she had done everything right.

She frantically checked for every sign of life she could, with every piece of technology on her. She checked with her fingers, with pokes and prods, nothing. “No no no no no…” She rushed, using the plasma saw to tear into the straps holding the breastplate on Fareeha’s chest. “No, please, please Fareeha no!” She tore off the breastplate, throwing it aside and attempting to use her suit’s inbound defibrillator to revive Fareeha. Mercy only shocked herself as her bloodstained hands short circuited her device. Cursing she began CPR. 

If the flame was still above Fareeha’s chest and if the situation was different Mercy might have paused in embarrassment of touching lips with the amazon. Now was not the time for embarrassment however, as she began the grueling process that was her only option at this point.

She only hoped the damned dropship would arrive soon, Overwatch had grown careless with her ungodly efficiency, needing less battlefield medics with her on the field meant that today of all days they learned a harsh lesson.

She could hear the road of the Dropship out of the corner of attention as she continued. In between breaths she yelled out, “Get me an AED from the Dropship NOW!”

Every sign was showing negative, no breath no pulse no spark.

It would be another minute before the AED would arrive in a grunt’s shaking hands.

It would only be another two before Mercy knew it was over.

She sat in silence as the sounds of battle faded, the battle was won, but at what cost?

“Attention all, this is Overwatch Agent Mercy. At approximately 14:23 PM Overwatch Agent Pharah has been declared deceased. Causes of death, too numerous to count. May she rest in peace.”

It would be many more minutes before the body of Pharah would be loaded onto a stretcher and taken onboard.

It would be only 1 minute aboard the dropship before Mercy broke into tears in Tracer’s arms.

It would be only 5 minutes after that a error in medical judgement would occur.

\-----

The dropship had an air of grief to it as Overwatch agents mourned their fallen friend. What should have been a resounding, cheery bunch of rogues was now a group of grieving comrades. Of all the agents however, the most obviously affected were McCree, Tracer, and the dear doctor Mercy.

McCree simply had his head low between his legs, a bottle of whisky conjured from seemingly thin air. Tracer and Mercy were in one another's arms, Tracer trying desperately to not allow more tears to flow down her already flushed cheeks as she tried to stay strong for the doctor. Mercy was in shambles, caught in a whirlwind of self hatred and doubt. 

‘She was responsible, she had lost a patient She had lost a friend, correction, she had lost a best friend. Had she lost someone more? It was her fault. She should have noticed the arms. She had gotten out of control. She was a professional, a miracle worker, she saved lives from the jaws of death. She hated herself for it but she would have traded any of the lives she had saved for the one she had just lost.’

On the outside it simply seemed as though she were catatonic, wrapped in a ball of arms and legs as if she were trying to squish herself out of existence. The Overwatch agents present, excluding 76, had never seen Mercy in such distress. The doctor had lost patients and friends before yes, but her reactions had always been more of sadness than outright grieving. The few that understood were Tracer and the few grunts who had been able to stomach observing the operation earlier, only they had seen the effort and desperation that had gone into saving their comrade.

On the fringes of all of this were Efie and Orisa, who had been present before, but had been relegated to the command post and backlines respectively. Efie herself was aged well enough to understand the situation, she  _ was _ a genius, but had not known Pharah long enough to gain an attachment. Orisa was appropriately confused, being such a young omnic and not having much worldly experience. Orisa simply stood while Efie sketched quietly on a notepad. “Efie?” Orisa said quietly, breaking the stillness of the aircraft.

Efie sighed, knowing the curious robot was going to ask some justified question that would make her feel awkward. “Yes Orisa, what is it?” 

“I understand that there is grief due to the passing of agent Pharah, but why do we mourn?”

Efie could only sigh, knowing that the omnic had just asked a question despite the atmosphere. “I’ll explain when we land alright?” She responded, pulling out a set of drawing tools to distract herself.

Orisa only seemed more confused as she made her way over to Pharah’s corpse. No one paid any attention to Orisa as she stood above Pharah, a ray of green light escaping her eye sockets as she examined Pharah. It was only a minute before Orisa spoke up once more.

“Efie?”

The child prodigy only sighed, “What now Orisa?”

“We are mourning the passing of Pharah correct?”

Efie lost her patience with the omnic, “Yes Orisa, and everyone would greatly appreciate you not bringing up our fallen friend!”

The aircraft’s passengers felt the tension emanating from the pair as Efie was showing her own grief where before she had seemed at peace before.

“But Efie, agent Pharah is not entirely dead.” Orisa stated simply.

The quiet atmosphere of the room tensed as all eyes slowly turned to Orisa.

Mercy sat in quiet shock for only a moment before raising her head and responding with a simple soft, “What?”

Orisa seemed frightened for a moment before explaining. “My medical scanners are detecting an extremely faint heartbeat as well as a small amount of latent brain activity. The symptoms seem indicative of a deep coma.”

Mercy only took a second to look askance at Tracer before bolting across the dropship. Orisa, detecting the urgency, brought up a visual of her scanners on a holo display nearby. Mercy only had to take one glance to know that she had rushed her assessment before, that the nanites had somehow been thrown for a loop and had made an error in detecting brain death.

Pharah was alive. There was a chance.

“Winstooooon!!!” she cried out, her urgent tone carried across the dropship to the controls.

“Already accelerating! Everyone buckle in please! Athena call ahead to Watchpoint Sekhmet and prepare a medical team and a pad for a high speed landing.”

“Contacting Watchpoint Sekhmet, Watchpoint garrison alerted to situation.”

Mercy was still in disbelief that she had made such an egregious error in the field. Deciding to trust Orisa's scanners rather than her own senses or currently faulty technology she did what she could to stabilize Pharah with the tools available. She only hoped she had enough time.


	2. Act 2: The Passover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey of resurrection begins.

 

  
   The halls of Watchpoint Isis in Egypt were quiet, and now terribly haunting, reminding all of their downed comrade. While the outside air was cooking at nearly 90o fahrenheit, the inside felt like a tomb. Hurried footsteps came to and fro from the loading and unloading docks of the Watchpoint, the newest Overwatch recruits working like bees keeping the various tedium of the base in check. One set of halls in the Watchpoint were not quiet however.

  
   “Gott fucking damnit, bekomme ich hier noch einen Blutbeutel?!”

  
   The halls of the medical wing were filled with a fury that did not often come from its source. All around the medical wing rushed the various field doctors and volunteer medics who comprised the rest of the new Overwatch medical staff, rapidly tending to their master’s every bidding. Among the members present were the finest in non-Medical engineering and science; Zenyatta was also there, mostly to help everyone keep their heads down.

  
   You kept your head down when the angel turned into the devil; and there was certainly not an angel ordering a terrified medical staff from a bloodied operating table.

  
   Symmetra and Winston were staying clear of the whirlwind of medical fury by staying near a patch of space near the corner of the room that somehow did not have a material component Mercy needed to complete her life saving surgery. Nearer the operating table Zenyatta was working his own easy flow of nanites, keeping Pharah somewhat stable as Mercy operated.

  
   The list of injuries Pharah had taken was the most severe Mercy had encountered in her medical career. Beyond the amputated limbs the injuries resulting from blood loss and the point-blank explosion were more pressing. Blast lung, requiring a supplementary oxygen flow as a temporary solution as surgery was attempted. The intestinal tract had taken a large amount of damage, both from shrapnel and from the concussive waves, the intestines would have to be replaced entirely. Bone breakage was consistent throughout the body, with either hairline fractures and microfractures on nearly every major bone. Ear drums annihilated, they would have to be replaced by augments.

  
   The worst, and unfortunately most visible, were Pharah’s eyes. Needless to say eyes were not meant to withstand large amounts of explosives being detonated not even 2 feet in front of them.

  
   The process of trying to keep Pharah from not dying of either internal bleeding or from lack of oxygen kept more extensive operations from being performed as the operation became a delicate balancing game. The action of attempting to repair her lungs interior would be put on pause as the other regions required more repair as every action caused another rupture to open elsewhere. Over and over the medical staff and Mercy would work with the most delicate hands as every slight error brought more internal bleeding.

  
   While nanites were a wonder and could heal the smaller ruptures, the larger ruptures however, had to be dealt with via traditional methods. Constant draining and recycling of blood as well as liberal use of hemostatic agents were constantly applied throughout the body. With every action the staff took, another rupture and more blood would slow them. All the medical staff could do was play this tug and pull as Pharah’s life was barely hanging by a thread.

 

\-----

  
   After several hours of this intensive, impossible, grueling surgery the medical staff in the room finally collapsed. As time had passed the observers had cycled through most of the members of Overwatch, fearful eyes gazing through the operating room window. Eventually, however, it would be Tracer and McCree who would be present as the hurricane of bodily fluids subsided.

  
   Doctor Angela Ziegler, continued to work however, repeating a set of checks and inspections across the instruments before her.

  
   “Angie gal, you’ve done what you can for now.” McCree rumbled out quietly as he slowly approached the seemingly unfatigued doctor.

  
   “Yeah Doc,” said Tracer, flanking McCree’s left “You’ve worked yourself another miracle with this, you need to rest.” Tracer made the mistake of touching Mercy, breaking her from the reverie she was in.

  
   There were several things terrifying about the good doctor gone bad; first, the look she acquired in her eyes was nothing like her normal gaze, a side effect from decades of self experimentation her eyes would gain a fiery color to them that gave an unnatural look. Second, despite her superior biology from even more experimentation, she was still susceptible to extreme fatigue after a point, and she had certainly passed her limit. Third, when Mercy was tired, whether from just waking up or exhaustion, she could get in a fury unlike any Overwatch member could summon. Finally, the only person who normally could calm Mercy down without having to resort to alcohol or coffee was currently barely alive on the operating table behind her. Tracer, only having to see the color of Mercy’s eyes, felt a shiver run down her spine. Mercy turned to her, aflame with determination.

  
   "Lena Oxton, I swear to whatever deities remain in this world that I will bring the wrath of Valhalla upon you if you dare attempt to lecture me on what I can and cannot do." Mercy hissed, eyes aglow with a synthetic fire she did not seem to notice. McCree stepped forward taking Mercy's unoccupied hand in his, drawing her wrath away from the petite agent. "Angie, darling, look at yourself. I'm no doctor but I can tell when you're just spinning your spurs. You've been doing the same set of stuff that anyone here could be doing girl. Nothin's changing, Reeha's stable, you did it." Both Tracer and McCree thought that the statement was heartwarming and endearing, but all it seemed to do was shatter the doctor's apparently fragile mental state.

  
   "That's what you both don't understand,” Mercy turned her head back towards Fareeha. “I didn't do it. The only miracle I've performed is keeping her alive long enough for someone to make a call in 6 months to cut her life support."

  
   "Angie..." Both Tracer and McCree enjoyed the nickname, used in the most sincere tone either of them could carry. "You got there as fast as you could. You made it faster than any sane person would have been able to do. Besides that she's still alive luv', she lost a lot of well, everything. You're a genius, luv', don't ever forget that." Tracer took the clipboard out of Angela's hand before taking the doctor's hand.

  
   McCree piped up again, "Doc, you're incredible, smarter than anyone here; but even you need rest. You can't make up miracles without some sleep and coffee. Let's get you out of here and into bed."

  
   Angela attempted to remain firm, remain angry; she simply had to stand by in case anything went wrong. She knew however, that she did need rest, and despite her best efforts she could not stay mad at her best friends for looking out for her. With more quiet whispers and gentle touches the pair pulled Angela away from the hospital bed and gave a quiet goodnight to the staff who had been keeping to the other side of the room.

  
   It would be another hour or so before Angela would arrive in her bed, trying to fight her friends and her oncoming exhaustion before her superhuman body finally collapsed in the hallway.

 

Angela slept.

 

\-----

 

[Watchpoint: ANUBIS, Day 2 after incident]

  
   Angela ached. She hadn’t ached like this in years, not since a botched raid on a Talon outpost during Overwatch’s glory days. Every fiber of her being felt either strained or in constant tension, the nanites that flew through her bloodstream obviously too drained to repair the damage to her exhausted muscles.

  
   With considerable effort she cracked her eyes open, taking in her surroundings. At some point she must have been carried back to her room against her will. She was annoyed, but knew it was the best option for her health. Her eyes eventually came to rest upon her alarm clock, or at least, her obscured alarm clock. Upon its face was a sticky note in Lena’s loopy handwriting saying “Sleep Well Doc!”

  
   Angela smiled, the first she had cracked since Numbani. It was good to know she had such caring teammates, teammates who had really become family. She reached over to the alarm clock, pulling off the sticky note to reveal the time.

[11:00 A.M.]

  
   Angela’s eyes widened suddenly in reaction to the time. Throwing the sheets off of herself she had almost stormed out of the door before stopping herself and checking her attire. She was still dressed in the undergarments from the surgery, at some point someone had removed her bloodstained scrubs before they put her to bed. “Probably thanks to Lena.” She thought to herself. Angela turned on a dime to find an outfit quickly before rushing out again.

  
   The Watchpoint had seemed to find some semblance of normalcy after the mission, but Angela paid no mind. Ignoring greetings from both recruits and fellow Overwatch agents she hurried down halls and stairwells to her medical bay. The medical bays did not belong to her, but she was the top ranking doctor, so whenever she was on base the medical bay was hers.

  
   When she arrived in the medbay, a different sight than from the night before greeted her. A small table with plates of fresh food resting upon it stood in the lobby of the medical wing. Around the table sat both Zenyatta and Lena; though McCree’s weathered hat sat on a third seat, denoting that the cowboy was absent for but a moment. Lena smiled at her giving her a quiet hello. Zenyatta did not have a face, but the inclination of his head and the gesture of welcome gave her enough indication of his intention as well.

  
   She hesitated, glancing around them towards the room that Fareeha had been in last night. Fareeha was still asleep on the operating table, the surrounding area having been meticulously cleaned by the graveyard shift of nurses. As she was about to make a move around the welcome wagon Lena piped up, “Fareeha’s fine, Doc, no changes overnight. They moved her to a new room after she stabilized anyway. Now sit down and eat, luv’, I know you haven’t since before Numbani.” Lena pushed forward a plate on the table towards the open seat.

  
   Angela hesitated for a moment before relenting and sitting down, knowing there was nothing more she could do for Fareeha. As she sat and began to eat quietly McCree strolled into the medbay. In his hands he carried a small serving tray with 3 large steaming cups of classical joe, the only kind McCree swore he knew how to make. He barely made it to the table before Angela swiped one of the mugs, downing nearly half of it before McCree sat down.

  
   “Yer welcome, Angie. Don’t drink it all before you eat; you’ll get sick.” McCree, having finally sat down, took a swig of his own coffee. His coffee was black of course, Angela and McCree were the only two on base who actually drank it black. Despite his reputation Jack had acquired a taste for Café de Olla (something Sombra endlessly teased him about) while gallivanting about as a vigilante. Fareeha had a massive sweet tooth, and drank her coffee with as much cream and sugar as her diet would allow.

 _  
“She might not be able to taste anymore if she lives through this.”_ Angela thought to herself, reflecting on Fareeha’s current state of health. Fareeha would be bedridden for the rest of her days _if_ she woke up. The future was not looking bright for her best friend.

  
   The medbay always had a sad air to it, but for Angela it currently felt like a black hole of worry. Even with her friends present she felt an underlying sense of dread and defeat coming from the medbay. It unnerved her, reminded her of her past failures, her most important regrets.

  
  
   The weight of losing Fareeha, even for a moment, was heavy. As she drank what little was left of her coffee and ate what food Lena gave her she tried to clear her mind. Attempting to shut out the emotions of dread and fear from her mind. To no avail however.

  
  
   The other occupants of the table were quiet, Lena looking worriedly at Angela, McCree simply drinking his coffee and staying quiet. Zenyatta sat still, but the micro-movements of his body indicated that he was paying very close attention to her. Angela kept quiet as well, simply drinking and eating, trying to not think about Fareeha.

  
  
   "Luv, how are you feeling?" Lena piped up, giving Angela a knowing look. McCree looked up from his own coffee while Zenyatta simply twisted his head slightly. Angela kept quiet, but the tension in her face was clear. She certainly was not.

  
   Lena and McCree shared a look. "Doc, listen, you've done perfectly fine. We said it last night and we'll say it again, you did a miracle, Ange'." McCree leaned forward across the small table and grabbed her hands. "I know you'll say that it's not over or that you failed already, but you haven't."

  
  
   Lena was the next to speak, "Yeah Doc, she's still living. That's a miracle in of itself." Lena grasped her hand and smiled gently, a smile that Lena gave off as naturally as her normal shit-eating one.

  
  
   Their words did nothing to sooth Angela. Her body tensed as she reflected on their words. "I let her get to this stage..." She began, the fire from the previous night returning. "It was my fault she lost so much. I was careless, I was foolish, I got caught up in the moment." She looked dead ahead to Zenyatta, who she had felt move as she spoke. "I'm responsible."

  
  
   "Ange' no! You're not~" "Doc, you aren't responsible those~" Both Lena and McCree spoke out, speaking over one another as they attempted to convince Angela otherwise. After a moment of them attempting to talk over one another and explain it, Zenyatta spoke out clearly above the verbal chaos.

  
  
   "Angela." His voice was soft and clear, piercing the voices of the other agents. Lena and McCree quickly piped down. "You know in your mind this is not your fault. Your emotions have gotten the best of you in this moment, as wonderful as they often are." He paused, seemingly waiting for an objection from Angela before continuing. "You and Fareeha have grown close since Overwatch returned, correct?"

  
  
   Angela nodded, her off-time was spent with either books or Fareeha, and occasionally Lena when the pilot could find the fortitude to sit still for 10 minutes. Zenyatta hummed, "I make no comment on the nature of your relationship, Doctor, however, I would like to note that there are oft warnings of caring for close friends or family. I know this isn't something you can handle properly, with no medical professional in Overwatch being your equal. I do believe that this is causing the classical scenario of not being able to keep your composure during medical emergencies related to Fareeha." Zenyatta folded his hands, seemingly content to have doled out some wisdom.

  
  
   She was floored. It made sense in retrospect, but the fact that her relationship with Fareeha was causing her excess worry had never crossed her mind. She tried to rationalize that it was her own skill that caused Fareeha so much injury. Angela knew however, that Zenyatta was right; on some deeper level, Angela cared for Fareeha more than she knew, and that had affected her performance when it had mattered most. Thanks to how tired she was, and how emotionally charged she had been, she began to gasp as tears began to flow.

  
  
   Lena moved in to embrace Angela with the biggest hug she could muster. McCree handed Angela a handkerchief as tears and snot began to run down Lena's jacket. McCree and Lena looked at one another and shared a knowing smile as they comforted her.

  
  
   After several minutes of emotional drainage Angela had calmed down enough Lena spoke up. "Got it all out, Doc?" Angela simply nodded and whispered a quiet thank you. Lena smiled sheepishly, "Well good cause you've got a meeting with Winston to talk bout' Fareeha."

  
  
   Angela nearly hurt her neck as she whipped around to look at Lena who was now standing by the door. "I... what." She muttered out as she wiped away a few stray tears.

\-----

 

  
   Angela stepped demurely into the watchpoint’s main conference room, thanking her modest choice of sneakers for their quiet tone. Eyes taking in the occupants of the room she realized that the agents gathered were the lovingly named “Brainiacs”. Winston heading the table with Torbjörn and Symmetra flanking the gorilla, Mei and Efi were also present, sitting closer to the end of the table closest to Angela.

  
   Winston smiled at her and gently gestured at the seat across from Mei. "It's good to see you up and about, Angela, you seemed dead on your feet by the end of yesterday. Or so Lena informed me." Lena gave Angela a gentle smile before waving and taking off. Angela simply shook her head and sat down. "I was perfectly fine, thank you very much. Such a workload was normal back in the day."

  
   Winston and Torbjörn shared a look. "You know Fareeha's condition was nowhere near what your normal workload was, Angela." Winston began, fussing with the papers in front of him. "You may have been the head of medical both then and now, but you have never had to deal with damage on this scale." He looked directly at her, attempting to form words but backing off and losing his footing. Seeing Winston's hesitance to be bold Torbjörn spoke up, seemingly frustrated with the small talk. "You have nothing to prove to us. We already know you're made of stronger stuff than most, there's no reason to break yourself to prove a point."

  
   Angela's temper flared. "I am certainly not breaking myself! I am simply performing to my absolute best ability!" She huffed and began to stand. "I certainly am not trying to prove myself to anyone either! I simply wish to perform my best!" She made a move to leave, her anger getting the best of her. Before she could leave however, she was held back by Mei's hand, the small woman having practically leapt across the table to reach her.

  
   "Angela, please wait!" Mei began, pulling Angela back to her seat. "We don't mean to disparage you! You just work so hard and don't seem to care about yourself!" Mei seemed frantic to explain, being the pacifist and not wanting to start a fight, as per usual. Angela was pulled to her seat by Symmetra, who gave her a passive look. Once in her seat, Angela looked around the room before her gaze returned to Winston. "Is this another one of your misguided workaholic interventions, Winston? Because you've picked the wrong group of people for that."

  
   Torbjörn chuckled to himself before muttering something under his breath. Winston simply shook his head. "While that is a subject for another day, we have more pressing matters. Particularly," He paused, giving Angela a knowing look. "the matter of how to restore Fareeha Amari back to a full life."

  
   Angela gave Winston a sour look, recalling how similar those words were to ones said by Overwatch's previous commander. "And what do you mean by _restore,_ Winston? Because I refuse to participate in such procedures like we had done before." She leaned back in her chair, trying desperately to maintain her anger over her more worried emotions. Winston nodded, "I can understand your concern, Angela, doing such a set of weaponizing procedures with the methods Morrison and Reyes had used is out of the question for us." He motioned to the the empty chairs in the room. "Which is why 76 isn't with us today, I didn't want a repeat of Mr. Shimada."

  
   Angela's emotions tempered slightly, knowing that Winston was serious about making this time different. She leaned forward slightly, now addressing the assembled 'brainiacs'. "You still haven't addressed how you intend to _restore_ Fareeha. As much as I'd like to state otherwise, I fear that the procedures that are possible in my field would leave Fareeha with, less than ideal circumstances." She shuddered, seeing the numerous wounds on Fareeha before her.

  
   Winston nodded, "I understand that, I've been relayed the overview of information from the medbay." He grimaced as he looked at the paper before him. "The damage she has sustained is unbelievable. I'd say it was a miracle that she lived, but it will only be a miracle if she can live long enough to be conscious again." He looked around the table at the gathered geniuses before looking at Angela directly. "That's where we come in, Angela."

  
   He handed her a glowing tablet. On the paper was technical details and blueprints that seemed to be mostly drafts of advanced prosthetics. As she read through the details she found that they had seemingly, in an evening, developed prototypes for every replacement Fareeha would need. Some could use work, she noted, but for the most part the replacements would be beyond efficient, or simply revolutionary.

  
   Angela remained quiet as she read, taking in the amount of work they were proposing. As she read Winston spoke up, "As much as I'd love to give you time to consider the extend of what we're proposing, and the ramifications this will have on Fareeha, we need to make a decision soon." Angela gave Winston an askance look before continuing to read. She knew that a decision had to be made, but she certainly could not make it. "I do suppose this is the only option we have available, but Winston." She shook her head, imagining the amount of replacements needed. "How much left will be Fareeha? And what of the neural damage?" She raised a finger to Winston, pointing accusatory. "Such a procedure goes beyond anything we've attempted, and it's certainly not something that's been attempted successfully."

  
   Winston nodded before gesturing towards Symmetra, who was off to the side shuffling her own set of virtual papers. "Symmetra and I were discussing the issue ourselves. I've experimented with such research in my... less than golden hours and found limited success. Symmetra here believes with such research and gentle hard-light tech a solution can be found." He paused, giving Angela a moment to take in his words, inching back slightly at the glare he received. "On the case of how much will be left, we're estimating around 60% will be pure metal; perhaps more if things go poorly."

  
   Angela paused, attempting to visualize the amount of cybernetics on Fareeha, but was unable to imagine anything other than the mangled corpse of her Liebling in her mind. Seeing her gears turning Mei spoke up, "Angela this won't be a repeat of last time, we don't have Jack and Gabriel bearing down on us anymore. This time we can do it the way it needs to be done, carefully." Mei leaned across the table to hold Angela's hand in her's.

  
   Angela's mind returned to the years of Overwatch, and of Blackwatch, remembering the guiding hands the organizations had used in her procedures in the past. Nodding she took a deep breath. She looked at the gathered geniuses and took in it all. “Alright… So we’re doing this.” Angela looked up at Winston, her worry turning into determination. “We will need Ana to sign off before we can do anything.”

  
   Winston simply smiled, “That won’t be a problem, trust me.” He pressed a button on the conference desk, “Bring her in, guys.” After a moment the conference room doors opened. Ana was led hand in hand by McCree with Lena following close behind. Ana had a calm look on her face as usual, but her eyes told a different story. Considering McCree’s wet poncho and Ana’s red eyes there was no hiding her current emotional state. The trio sat across from Winston, with McCree sitting next to Angela. He gave her a quiet smile before looking at Winston.

  
   “Ana…” Winston began, looking sincerely at her. “I know that you’re still beyond worried about Fareeha, but time is of the essence now, and we need to talk to you about options.” The table turned to look at Ana, who kept her calm composure.

  
   Ana was quiet, for a moment a tear seemed to appear in the aged agent’s eye, but it fell not. Her response was soft, but held all the power her experience had given her. “Save my child, Winston. Save my beibiihaat.” Ana began to lose control as she pleaded. “Save her, please.” As tears began to flow Lena handed Ana a tissue.

  
   Winston nodded, shuffling the papers in front of him. “Don’t worry, Ana, we have a plan. Let me walk you through it…”

  
   The meeting went fairly quickly, with few or little questions from Ana, and approval at every point of consent. At the end Ana shook hands with everyone present, knowing they were responsible for her daughter's life, and making sure they knew that as well. Ana and McCree would walk out in a side-hug embrace, the cowboy reassuring the captain that the brains would have it sorted in no time. As the pair left Angela looked to Winston with a piercing gaze. "Winston, when do we start?"  
Winston returned the gaze with a warm smile, "We'll do design work and diagnostics tomorrow. Get some more rest tonight." He looked around at those gathered. "It'll probably the best rest we'll have for the next few months..."

 

\-----

 

  
   Winston was right about one thing, that night was the best they would have in a long time. What none of them expected however, was just how well they would work together. The brainiacs had worked together previously in pairs on various projects, but the 4 scientists and engineers plus Angela had never collaborated on such a major project together. Somehow their different design decisions were in perfect sync, when one mind would hit a wall another would bust a hole through it and carve a new path.

  
   What they had expected in some capacity was how difficult it would be to create artificial implements for Fareeha. With every organ they designed they went through several iterations of a replacement before beginning to perform surgery. The surgery, Angela's duty, was the largest obstacle of all.

  
   Fareeha's body was weak, incredibly so. Every incision and every stitching had to be assisted by nanites during the healing process, lest her cells simply allow the wound to remain open. Her cells were taking far too long to heal Angela noted at every major milestone.

  
   Worse still, the replacement organs were being rejected by the body, causing more damage to the surrounding cells. With every replacement they made, a new piece of flesh had to be removed and replaced with machinery or hard light.

  
   It would be weeks before Fareeha could be removed from an artificial lung. Weeks more until her new omnic-styled heart could replace the pump attached to her chest. Things were beginning to look up. There was just one problem, Fareeha hadn't woken up.

 

\-----

 

  
   "I just don't get it, Winston," Angela grumbled, looking at a whiteboard covered in diagrams and CAT scans pinned to it. "Everything here says that her mental faculty should be alright, but it's been months now. Everything here says that she should be fine." They both stood at their own consoles in the refurbished Gibraltar storage room, equipment of all kinds littering the walls and tables. Torbjörn sat at his own desk, working on a blueprint for a artificial liver.

  
   Torbjörn, overhearing Angela, yelled across the room. "Perhaps you can get a second opinion, Angela. Another pair of eyes always brings a new solution to a situation." He returned to his work, sending off the draft to Symmetra's console.

  
   Winston raised an eyebrow at the exchange, not exactly knowing how to respond to the prod from Torbjörn, especially since his words reminded of Orisa pointing out Angela's oversight before. "While Torbjörn is a being a little harsh, he is right Angela. You've looked at those CAT scans for a terribly long time." He waggled a wrench at her. "Is there not anyone else that can help you with this, Angela? You can't exactly do this on your own 100% of the time. The rest of us can make up for one another's slack, but you're on your own."

  
   Angela simply continued staring at the whiteboard for a minute, attempting to discern anything from the black prints. After another minute she sighed and walked over to Winston's desk, grabbing her coffee on the way there. She sat down in a chair next to him and leaned against the desk before groaning. "I'm afraid there really isn't anyone else that can, Winston. As much as I'd like to get some respite I can't think of anyone that could perform operations like this..."

  
   Winston simply looked at her before putting down his wrenches. As he moved to grab something Angela perked up. "What are you working on anyway?" Winston paused in his grabbing motion before responding. "A backup plan for a very stupid theory, Angela." After another minute of searching and a raised eyebrow from Angela, Winston pulled out his communicator.

  
   Pressing the button on the side he spoke into the communicator. "Lena, could you come to the workshop please?" After hearing the agent's cheery, garbled response Winston set the and turned to Angela with a smile on his face. she simply stared. "Lena? Lena of everyone on the base? She's bright but she isn't exactly the most perceptive in more subdued situations."

  
   "Trust me, Angela," Winston said as he held his hands up in a calming manner. "Lena may not be the bookish type, but she does have a good way of seeing things a little differently." He looked askance towards the hallway and beyond, towards his main lab. "I'm thinking it may be a side effect of the slipstream..." He looked concerned for a moment, probably turning over the issue in his head before remembering himself. "At least, that's what it might be, I'm uncertain. Lena didn't get a lot of time to make observations back in the day..."

  
   Angela grimaced, knowing all too well how the downfall of Overwatch had cut short the agent's heroics. "I can suppose I see your point, but Winston, Lena isn't medically trained, let alone capable of~"

  
   "Capable of what luv?" Angela shriek of surprise for a moment as she stumbled into a nearby table, heart racing at the near jump-scare surprise. Angela stood and panted for a moment before looking back at Lena and rolling her eyes. "Nothing dear, thank you for being prompt."

  
   Winston smiled at Angela, obviously having been in on the scare. "Yes thank you for coming so fast Lena. We've got something for you to take a look at." Lena simply smiled and chirped back, "No problem, luv! Fast is my specialty!" Winston laughed and brought her over to Angela's workstation, Angela herself walking behind them, still a bit spooked. "We wanted to get your opinion on this set of images." He stood next to the board and let Lena take a closer look at the pictures.

  
   "Hmmm.... What am I looking for?" Lena asked, stroking her chin comically as she stared at the pictures. Angela and Winston looked at one another before Angela spoke, "Something that seems off or wrong, I've been looking at this for days but can't find anything." Lena nodded as she stared closely at the pictures, moving in and out to try and get a better look. Eventually she picked up some of the pictures and started rotating them and flipping them, despite Angela and Winston's complaints.

  
   After a few minutes of her looking at the pictures Angela and Winston could see the light bulb appear above her head. "Aha! I got it!" Putting the pictures back on the board she picked up a profile picture of the brain. She pointed at the rear region of the brain. "This part here seems weirdly dark, maybe it's some damage of some kind?" She looked at Angela with bright eyes, apparently oblivious to what she had just discovered.

  
   Angela simply sat against the table for a moment before she realized where exactly Lena had pointed out on the picture. She quickly rushed to the board and examined the image. "I had thought," She turned the scan over in her hands, examining it from all angles. "That that region was simply a discoloration..." Lena smiled brightly at the pair of them, Winston was standing behind her looking very smug with himself.

  
   Angela turned and smiled, "Thank you, Lena, I'm sorry I doubted you." Lena simply shook her head, "No problem, Doc! Anything for you or Reeha, yeah?" With a smile and a quick hug to Winston and Angela, Lena blinked out of sight and out the door, waving to everyone present before running off to bother someone else, probably.

 

Angela simply stood dumbfounded at Lena's keen eyes, and her kindness.

\-----

 

  
   In the depths of the team’s secret labs, Winston quietly shuffled about. Around the small room bits and pieces of machinery and circuitboard were strewn about, thrown in haphazard piles as he worked via trial and error. On his various computer screens diagrams and blueprints were displayed, showing a monstrosity of metal and circuitry.

  
   He sighed as he came to a dead stop, putting down the piece he held. Winston leaned back in his chair and took off his glasses. Rubbing his eyes he checked the time, far past any reasonable hour, even for him. Winston paused as he went to shut down for the night.

   Looking at the corner of his screens he found the small purple skull icon, sitting, waiting. Looking at the time again, then checking to see if D.va was still streaming. He frowned, then chuckled, seeing her tired face struggling to stay awake as she played some old strategy game. Reaching over to the small button on his touchscreen, he quickly pinged the small skull, giving it a light tap.

   A moment later the shrouded figure of Sombra appeared in a video-chat window. She looked as ragged as D.va, her hair splayed about as she rested her head on her desk. Behind her, the light from D.va’s monitors illuminated her room with a dim and dynamic light. She looked at the camera and still smiled however, playing off her tired nature. “Heeeey there, Skippy, what’s up?”

   Winston sighed as he put on his glasses, smiling at Sombra’s nickname. “Hello Sombra, I was wondering if you could give me some help on this…”

\-----

      The sound of loud raps coming from hands slamming upon her ears awoke a nearly rested Angela. The banging on Angela's door was not uncommon in recent days. As every few nights something else going wrong with the now weeks long operation. With a moan Angela rose from her bed and stumbled to her door. With every few steps her nanites activated, waking up as Angela did, giving her a boost of energy as she moved.

     This did nothing to elevate the irritated look on Angela's face as she opened the door to reveal a pair of panicked faces. Two of the nurses from the night crew. "What is it?" Her voice was groggy, but still held a sense of command to it.

    "Doctor Ziegler, it's Ms. Amari, ma'am, her artificial organs are failing." Angela stumbled to her closet, now fully awake as panic began to set in. As she rushed she yelled behind her. "Call up Torbjörn and Symmetra! I'll need them to meet me at the medbay!" The nurses scrambled, running back to the medical wing to call up Angela's team.

\-----

    Several minutes later the three had surrounded the bedridden body of Fareeha. Angela had her hands fairly deep in Fareeha, while Torbjörn and Symmetra were at a whiteboard, trying to solve their issue. After a minute more of surgery Angela had a grip on the most recently failed organ, the artificial tissue looking almost fatigued.

    "I don't understand what the problem is, from an engineering standpoint everything is in its place!” Symmetra was clearly exasperated as she tapped her pen against the board, hardlight projections of Fareeha’s organs hovering before her. Torbjörn was shuffling papers in his hands, notebooks laid out on a workstation before him as he rapidly flipped pages trying to find a solution.

   Angela continued to do her own work as she waited for instructions, attempting to find some solution to their problem. “Any advice at all would be incredible right now, you two…” She carefully injected more nanites into Fareeha’s system, the organs stabilizing only slightly as blood slowly moved through her veins. Looking up at the pair she tried to follow along with their shuffling of notes.

   Angela turned back to the mechanical organs before her, synthetic flesh and hardlight with a metal frame sitting in Fareeha’s chest, looking weak. She didn’t prod, but examined with her eyes, trying to find some clue to the problem. Angela dissected the organs before her, trying to find some hint.

   After a few more seconds of silence Angela’s trained eyes saw something. The synth flesh and other organs around what she saw we very slightly blue. “Hypoxia…” Symmetra looked up from her models, an eyebrow raised. “What Angela?”

   Angela looked at her, standing slowly as she ran her theory through her head. “Hypoxia, Fareeha isn’t getting enough oxygen to her organs, causing them to fail… It’s only thanks to the constant injections of nanites that she’s still alive.” Angela looked at Torbjörn, hands on the operating table.

 

   Torbjörn ran through his notes, directing Symmetra to pull up status files of Fareeha's heart. "Her blood isn't becoming oxygenated..." He whispered to himself, scribbling madly with a pencil as Symmetra went back into Fareeha's status history.

 

   "She's been losing blood cells during all of our operations." Symmetra pulled up a closer detail of the nanites. "The nanites detected the issue and have been serving as her blood cells... Both white and red." An animated hologram of nanites attacking the foreign bacteria in Fareeha's body played as Angela watched with vested interest.

 

   "Fascinating..." Was all Angela could whisper out as she took in their combined revelation. She turned to Torbjörn, taking stock of her options. She thought to her small vats of nanites in her office, by no means a meagre supply, but not enough to last Fareeha her entire life. "Torbjörn is there any way to keep the blood cells from dying off as rapidly as they are?"

 

   He simply shook his head, running the numbers as Symmetra pulled up a heat-map of Fareeha's blood cell death. "They're dying everywhere... her bloodstream and body is just too hostile for the little soldiers to keep up." He glanced up at Angela over his notepad, the outline of a new device coming into view. "We need an alternative..."

  


\-----

 

   Not even a few hours later the small, spherical mechanical organ was placed near the center of Fareeha's chest, taking the opposite side of her body from her heart. Angela and Torbjörn sighed as it clicked into place, starting to whir to life as Symmetra released the seal around it.

 

   The watched with gaping mouths as the little organ began to glow, the room starting to fill with a golden light. With little, heart like bursts, Fareeha's bloodstream slowly became imbued with the color gold. The change of color radiating outward from her little core.

 

   The trio were smiling with great relief, Symmetra giving off a smile in the form of a satisfied smirk when things accelerated. A thin golden ooze began to emanate from Fareeha's little core, traveling over her open skin with a steady pace. Off to the side Fareeha's heart monitor could be heard slowing for a moment as the stress on her body was relieved slightly.

 

The ooze crawled up Fareeha's exposed skin, the cuts and incisions made healing themselves in the ooze's wake.

 

   They stood there, stock still as they watched this verifiable wave of nanites journey outward and cover Fareeha's open chest. Angela gasped as within nearly a minute, Fareeha's chest was turned into a shiny silver, skin replaced by metal as the nanites created a hard shell to protect their host.

 

The trio looked between one another, a new layer of complexity added to their problems.

 

\-----

   Winston sat quietly in his lab. Around him stood Satya and Sombra, his two main companions in this project. He sighed as he pondered the machinery in front of him. On the table sat a webwork of wiring and circuitry connected to a massive spike filled with nanites.

   He looked up at the two of them, determination in his eyes. “We ready to tell Angela?” The pair nodded, a similar determination in their own eyes. Satya put on her communicator and began to ping Angela. Sombra quietly sat down, waiting for the doctor’s judgment to arrive.

A few minutes later, Angela knocked on the door, completely unaware of the revelation awaiting her.

 

\---

 

[Location: Watchpoint Anubis, Day: 186 after incident]

 

   The team had gathered once more, hopefully for the last time, in the prep room of the base’s operating theatre. They had all dressed up in some form of professional wear, with Torbjörn stepping out since he wasn’t needed. The team looked about at one another, Mei and Angela both in medical gear, with Winston and Satya in labcoats.

   Breaking the silence, Angela spoke up, moving from the wall where she leaned. “Are we ready?” Seeing the nods from her team, she nodded as well, moving towards the door. With a firm press of a button, she opened the door and strode into the room. The all walked with a confidence befitting their hero status, they were prepared to win.

 


	3. Act 3: The Resurrection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finale to this many month long journey, both in story and outside.

 

   The quiet tension in the room was at it's highest it had ever seen. Across the entire room, worried eyes gazed hopefully upon the operation table as Mercy and Symmetra worked their magic. Winston was also under the gaze of the agents present off to the side, operating the computer bank connected to Pharah.

   The gathered geniuses took one last look at one another and began to set in motion their final step in their impossible resurrection.

   "Mental core standing by, Angela." Winston called out from his side of the table.

   "All synchronization seems to be in order, ready for intensive recalibration if necessary." Symmetra called, hands covered in an interface of hard light too complex for most or all of the crowd to understand.

   "All biological systems are functioning. All mechanical implements are synchronized with biological systems. On my mark, ready?" Angela responded, hands ready on nearly a dozen different scanners and medical devices with her caduceus staff at the ready on the table in front of her. Not that the staff would actually do any good for this final procedure, it was more of a reminder of her purpose.

   Jostling himself one final time looking askance at Lena and Ana standing nearest on the other side of the window. "Ready" Symmetra merely nodded.

   Angela closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. This was it. The moment of truth. With an outflow of breath and a measure of nanite induced calm, Mercy set in motion her plans.

"Mark."

   With that command Winston activated the mental core buried deep within Fareeha’s skull, sending waves of electricity deep within her. All at once every visual glowed deep red. Pharah's body began convulsing rapidly, both robotic and flesh parts seemingly having a seizure.

"Mental core extremely out of sync, too much power Winston!"

"Biological systems convulsing, and mechanical implements are completely desynced, Winston lower voltage!"

   "Already on it!" Winston tried his best but the core had gone completely haywire in only a few seconds. "Ahhhh! Athena, Zenyatta give me a hand with the core I've lost complete control!"

"Affirmative Winston."

"At once."

   Zenyatta and Athena were not present physically in the room, but they were linked to the mental core within Pharah. It took only a fraction of a second for the indicators on all the screens to return to normalized positions.

   "Is the core damaged? What happened? Athena?" Mercy called out, scanning her instruments for something, anything to give her a clue as to the situation."

   "Everyone, I am happy to report that the operation was a complete success." Zenyatta's voice came through the room's speakers. "Ms. Amari simply was still stuck in the nightmare that was her coma, it only took a moment of guidance and peace to allow the core to synchronize with her brainwaves."

   Angela and Symmetra glanced at the brainwave indicator among the systems. The patterns had indeed returned to normalcy. Looking at the logs they had missed in their panic, they noticed that the core had been synchronized all along. Pharah had simply been having the worst nightmare ever conceived.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, gaining a moment of rest before hearing a quiet voice from the operating table.

"H-Hello? Is anyone there?"

Pharah was awake. Fareeha was alive.

   Angela rushed to Pharah's side, using every scanner she had on her checking Fareeha up and down while talking a thousand miles a minute.

   "Fareeha thank goodness, we thought we had lost you, you would not believe how far gone you were. I was so worried I thought I lost you. Are you alright? How are you feeling? How many fingers am I holding up. What is..."

Angela was only stopped by the light, weak sound of Fareeha’s voice.

   "Angela..." Pharah whispered out barely before beginning to panic. Angela’s hand returned to her side as Pharah seemed more and more panicked. "What happened? The last thing I remember was Numbani and then..." She stopped, seemingly perturbed. "Angela, why can't I feel my arms, or my legs? Why is there a H.U.D. in my face? What's going on?"

"Fareeha dear... I..." Angela did not know how to respond right away.

   "Simply put Fareeha," Winston stepped in, holding a tablet containing an overview of data on fareeha. "You were dead." Fareeha's eyes flashed wide.

   "Truly? Am I actually risen from the grave?" Everyone noticed she seemed to be making an attempt to inspect herself, but was not moving her head.

   "You were not 100% dead Fareeha," Mercy gave Winston a piercing glare, "But you were as close as I have ever seen a patient."

   "Then..." Fareeha for a moment looked scared. "What state am I in where I cannot feel anything? Was my nightmare my moment of being dead? How long has it been I..." Seeing that Fareeha was obviously beginning to panic Angela interjected.

   "Fareeha please calm yourself, we will answer all in due time." She put her hand on Fareeha's, attempting to give a calming presence. She did not know how much help her presence actually gave Fareeha. "To begin somewhere, it has been nearly 3 months since the Numbani mission, and you are currently at Watchpoint Gibralter. You were extremely injured during the battle and needed extensive surgery to save your life." Angela ran her fingers across Fareeha's hands.

"We rebuilt you, Fareeha." She gave a look of surprise and seemed ready to ask a question but Angela interrupted.

   "Fareeha, listen; if you hate anyone for what has been done to you I understand completely, the operations done upon you were done without your will and are beyond the scope of anything a sane doctor would have considered." Angela gazed into Fareeha's eyes with a deep sorrow and pleading that Fareeha had never seen.

"Angela what are you.." Again, Fareeha was cut off.

   "Fareeha when you returned to Watchpoint Anubis you were barely alive, and you were barely together." Angela choked on her words for a moment. "You-you, By the time you arrived on the operating table you had already lost both of your legs. Your chest was beyond scarred and shredded. It was by some impossible miracle your organs were still within you. Perhaps a greater miracle you had not died by blood loss by the time I got to you." She paused again looking away, attempting to control herself. “Fareeha. We had to amputate your arms. They were beyond repair. I’m so sorry.”

Time slowed for Fareeha as the weight of the situation descended upon her. 

"Fareeha, you are more machine than woman. You are nearly 78% machine. I am so sorry."

Fareeha could only sit in stunned silence. 

   "Angela, I am certainly not mad. You saved me from the worst repeating nightmare I have ever encountered. You saved me from a fate worse than death, when the easiest option was death." Fareeha tried to comfort Angela, but became frustrated upon finding she could still not move.

   Angela was stunned. "Fareeha perhaps you don't understand, you may have well as lost your humanity in many people's eyes."

   Fareeha simply shook her head. "The only thing I don't understand is why I cannot feel anything at all. Was my spinal chord completely destroyed?"

   Winston coughed politely, breaking the entranced back and forth the two had gotten into. “If I may explain Angela.” Broken out of her cycle of self loathing Angela coughed into her hand, backing away from the seemingly paralyzed Fareeha.

   Turning to Fareeha, Winston continued, “Fareeha in addition to your central nervous system being destroyed from the feedback. A large piece of shrapnel had entered your skull and brain tissue.”

   “By a near impossible miracle your brain was mostly intact in terms of memory storage and the like, only the tissue related to your motor control and sight were majorly injured.”

   Pharah seemed reflective for a moment, before becoming obviously frustrated that she could not move. “So if that is the case why can I see you all?”

   Angela stepped back into the conversation having composed herself. “Among the many we had to perform on you Fareeha, we had to create a neural core to connect your brain activity to your nervous system. Which we also had to rebuild. We just need to resynchronize the core with your body’s nervous system and we should have you up and about.”

“..My brain is part computer now?”

“Yes Fareeha, hard light technology is a wonderful thing.”

   Though Angela did not cite her specifically, those who were looking her way could see Symmetra straighten her back slightly and brush her lab coat. An action that for anyone else would have been small, but for the quiet woman spoke volumes. After a few moments of patient troubleshooting the trio of scientists were ready.

   “Ready Fareeha? Again, I’m sorry for how this will feel.” Angela asked making sure to look into her eyes to gain confirmation.

“Ready as I will be.”

   With a quick set of confirming nods, Winston and Symmetra activated their respective devices and set the core to resynchronize. Suddenly, Fareeha's world was agony as before unused neural links were reactivated sending feedback straight to her brain. Every limb that was gone and had previously felt like a phantom had suddenly returned, they felt strange and new, they also felt excruciating at their connectors.

   Fareeha screamed in agony before Angela administered a strong dose of pain reliever. The pain itself began to fade however as Symmetra's gentle hard light nerve connectors began to finish the syncing process with Fareeha's mental core. Finally, after what to Fareeha felt like hours of pain, the process was done and she felt numb.

"Can you move yourself, Libeling?" Angela asked, holding her hand.

   Fareeha was almost too scared to try after the excruciating pain. After a moment of steeling herself she attempted to raise her left arm.

   It moved. She could feel every particle on the synthetic skin that made up her arm. Trying for a second miracle she attempted to raise her right arm. It rose slower and it felt number than her left, but it did move.

   Eyes brimming with newfound life Fareeha looked to Angela, asking for permission with a hopeful gaze. Angela simply nodded moving to assist her. After a moment of hesitation, one leg was off the table. Then came the other. After a moment of unsteadiness, Fareeha was standing, alive and well.

   Fareeha was elated, and with her smile the atmosphere switched from concern to elation with her. After a few more moments of confirming that her prosthetics were in order, Fareeha was able to begin walking without assistance. She had some trouble, still weak from being dead for 3 months but she was walking.

   She was surprised after a moment however, and did almost lose her balance when her mother nearly tackled her, moving faster than anyone had ever seen her. She was surprised again when her stoic leader of a mother wept elephant tears on her medical robe that she just now noticed had no back. She was surprised a third time seeing most of the standing Overwatch members now on the other side of the observation window, all looking as if they had seen "happy ending movie here"

It was a quiet, happy moment, for a falcon had come home to roost again.

\-----

   It would be some time before Fareeha would get used to her body. Satya noted in private with her that dysphoria in relation to her body, especially her artificial limbs, would be long journey before she ever felt comfortable. Genji noted similar feelings, stating that it took him several years for him to adjust, and that even then he had received less damage than her, leaving him with more human than machine.

   In the end however, the thing that drove Fareeha up the wall the most was the feeling that her thoughts were not hers. The mental core was designed to model her brain structure as it was before the mission, and being synchronized it was supposed to be a part of her. Symmetra and Winston both assured her that the core would adjust. However, despite Symmetra's assertions and Winston's endless examinations Fareeha felt uncomfortable with her new mental state.

   She found that where before she would ponder a factual question longer searching for the right words, she would now blurt out the answer without the rest of her brain having time to catch up. This was fine actually, beyond being a little disturbing it made for a silly game with McCree and Tracer where they would ask her a stupid question they knew the answer to, just to see if she would answer, or how fast she could answer. The game was stupid, but the laughs of her friends and the feeling of acceptance made her feel marginally better.

   What truly bothered Fareeha however, was how much more decisive and quick her decision making was. When faced with a situation her accelerated core would find the most optimal path or decision for her to take in a fraction of a second, recommending it to her. The pause for recommendation was fantastic, it let her consider the issue at hand and more often than not take that path. The only problem was, the thoughts were so close to what she  _ wanted  _ to do, but not in reality what she should do that she'd end up doing the most instinctual thing.

   For example she was not yet fit for battle, but she had spent much of her time in athletic and combat training courses. During a session of combat training she had almost shot Jessie, her core and instincts both recognizing him as a threat before her eyes and brain caught up with her. The action had sent Fareeha into shock, requiring her to be bedridden for the next several days. Winston and symmetra tried to pull back these features of the mental core, however the core had already become in such close sync with Fareeha that any amount of time without the core caused seizures and waves of pain across her body. In the end they let the core be, informing Fareeha that she would have to go through mental training with Zenyatta and Genji to improve her mental discipline.

   Eventually this issue came to a head, as Fareeha spoke before she could think during a night of light drinking with Tracer and Angela. She didn't get drunk anymore, thanks to a lack of proper digestive functions, but she still took the time to drink with her close friends.

"You know, for how little of you there's left you seem to be taking it pretty well." Lena remarked while sipping a tall glass of some fancy french wine Angela had found in a cupboard in another Watchpoint after a mission.

   "Honestly Lena, it's not the body part that freaks me out." Fareeha responded, sipping a glass of the wine before leaning forward. "It's how I feel like my mind is not my own. Everyday I make snap decisions that I would have made on instinct or judgement, but the core isn't programmed for ethical or adaptive reasoning and I scare myself with what I end up doing."

"For example, though I've stilled this well enough, I often find myself about to say very blunt and upfront responses or statements. Words I would have simply thought and kept to myself now flow out of me with no restraint."

"Like what, love?" Tracer said, leaning forward to show her attention was being held. Angela also leaned forward, with a more concerned look on her face.

"Well... ask me a question that I'd attempt to be nice about or some such."

   Lena paused for a moment, finger put cutely on her lips as she pondered. "What do you think of that poster on the wall." Shepointed towards a poster of a movie Hana had been in at some point during her short lived acting career, everyone was normally nice enough to say nothing about the film, despite how terrible it was.

   "It's a tacky terrible film that nearly bombed Hana's career. Also, the makeup did make Hana look chubby." After a moment of blankness, Fareeha seemed to realize what she had just said and covered her mouth. She closed her eyes and breathed before trusting herself to speak, "Sorry, see what I mean?"

Both Lena and Angela's jaws were practically on the floor.

   Angela recovered first, "Verdammt Liebling, you weren't kidding when you said you speak your mind." She reached over putting her hand on Fareeha’s, attempting to comfort her. The action only brought a subtle blush to Fareeha’s cheek that went unnoticed.

Lena’s eyes however, gleamed with a new sheen of mischievousness. “So Fareeha, would you feel safer with Angela stitching you up or your Mum?”

“Angela, without a doubt. Mother may put on a grandmother aesthetic, but she cannot sew to save her life.” Fareeha put a hand over her mouth barely able to keep a blush and a smirk off of her face.

“Lena! Please stop! This is a serious problem for Fareeha that we’re trying to work out!” Angela scolded Lena, barely keeping a smirk off of her face.

“One more, one more!” Lena pleaded, giving Angela her best puppy eyes.

   Angela looked to Fareeha with a worried expression, visually asking her if she wanted to stop. Fareeha simply gave a nod. “Only one more Lena, please. And please keep it to somewhat comfortable topics please.”

   Lena nodded frantically before taking on a pondering position. It would be nearly another minute before Lena’s eyes lit up with a nearly evil glare. Raising her head slowly and gaining a smile more befitting for Widowmaker she leaned back and took a sip of her drink. Fareeha and Angela shared a look of worry before returning their gaze to Lena.

“Fareeha,” She began, sipping her drink before continuing, obviously taking her time. “What do you think of Angela.” She smirked larger than either woman thought possible.

“Lena that is beyond rude! I should-” Angela began to retaliate before being interrupted by  Fareeha.

   “Angela is the most caring, wondrous human being I have ever met.” Fareeha began, her mouth moving on it’s own as her eyes revealed her terrified nature. “Ever since I’ve joined Overwatch Angela has been a shining star, the core of every interaction and every thought I’ve had. There hasn’t been a moment where I’ve been with Angela that I’ve not enjoyed. I was so terrified when I was shot down in Numbani, not for my own life, but because I never got to tell her how much I admired her. How much I enjoyed her presence. How much I-” Fareeha finally had regained control of her limbs and had covered her mouth with her hands. Her eyes showed her terror and both other women could see her blush behind her hands. Tears began to flow as Fareeha began to stand up to move away, but not before Angela could grab her hand.

   “Liebling,” Angela said, shellshocked. “What was that last one? I won’t judge you.” She gave the most gentle gaze she thought she could give. Lena also nodded, trying to make herself as small as possible, which was difficult considering how small she was already.

   Fareeha seemed terrified, but after a moment lifted her hands from her mouth. Quietly she whispered out: “How much I love you.” Her blush rose to an all time high as she looked in terrified expectation at Angela.

   Angela herself, had the strongest blush on her face she could ever remember. Her brain was short circuiting as Fareeha Amari had just confessed in the most genuine way she had ever heard. “Me? I don’t understand? Why in the world -”

   “When I almost died in Numbani, my only regret was not telling you how much I cared for you Angela.” Fareeha got down next to her, looking Angela in the eye. “Angela I care for you more than anything in this world, you are a shining light among these bright stars.” She gestured to Lena who was now looking simply elated at what she had set in motion.

“Fareeha I-”

   “I don’t want to lose my opportunity again Angela, our lives are short and mine is undoubtedly shorter after Numbani. Please Angela just let me know this, is there ever a chance you could love me before? Is there a chance you would love me now? In this inhuman state? Please let me know so I can know I have not wasted my precious time.” Fareeha was practically in tears as artificial tear ducts were slowly activating. Angela was wide eyed and shocked. They sat there for nearly a minute in silence as Fareeha awaited an answer.

   “Fareeha, liebling.” Angela began, reaching for Fareeha’s now thoroughly flushed skin. “I had no idea you were interested in me. Let alone loved me.” She paused taking a look at Lena to give her a pleading glance. Interpreting this as her moment to keep quiet Lena made a zipping motion on her lips. Angela continued looking back to Fareeha, “Fareeha, you are perhaps one of the bravest individuals I have ever met. Beyond that you are kind and beautiful and a treasure to this world.” Damn it all if Fareeha was going to be forced to speak the whole truth, She would subject herself to the same fate.

   She was feeling an encroaching fear as Angela poured out her own feelings. This felt like a rejection, of the nice kind she had heard far too often from people in the past. She turned her head to the floor and began to sink to the floor before Angela forcefully grabbed her jaw and turned her head upward, forcing her gaze onto Angela.

   Angela leaned in close. “Fareeha, you always had a chance before Numbani. And Fareeha,” she paused looking deeply into her eyes. “Just because you are more metal than woman does not change a damn thing. You certainly still have the chance to ask me out.” Fareeha’s eyes widened and her mouth opened for only a millisecond before becoming interrupted by Angela. “But I’m afraid your opportunity has passed.” A moment of panic passed before Fareeha was engulfed in the deepest kiss she had felt in ages.

   Fareeha was still in shock when Angela asked golden words with her silky tongue.

“Fareeha Amari, would you like to go on a date?”

The feeling of elation that swept through Fareeha was the biggest she had felt since her first time flying. She was on cloud nine, and the skies were clear as could be.

Fin.

  
  



End file.
